


Leasing Love

by crazyparakiss



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 17:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyparakiss/pseuds/crazyparakiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius knows free is an illusion, everything comes at a price—especially love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leasing Love

  
_I Think They Meant It When They Said You Can’t Buy Love,  
But now I know you can rent it..._  
  
  
 _Click-click_ , soon a ribbon of smoke curls from the tip of his latest punter’s cigarette and Scorpius lets out a sigh. He hates the smell of tobacco and worse yet, he hates that he cannot tell this man to put his poison out.   
  
The sack of gold falls heavily against his bedside table. He should count it; Scorpius has been shorted more than once, but he can’t bring himself to sit up—to feel the slide of come as it creeps from his body. No—he’s trying to hide from himself, from his disgust, if only for a moment longer.   
  
“I’ll be back in two weeks.” Scorpius waves him on—not caring if he ever comes back. He hasn’t got the luxury to form attachments—relationships, they are a dangerous fantasy to covet. Pulling himself up, he glances at the scratchy blankets and winces at the cooling wet feel between his legs. The bag is lighter than it should be and he sighs—knowing he should have taken the payment before the deed was done.   
  
He drops the pouch into a basket and watches as the money disappears, tucked away in a private safe away from prying customers. The worst part of his work is when people steal what he’s worked his arse off—literally—for. Scorpius sighs and sits on the cold surface of his bed; the hours are passing while he watches the light shift across the ceiling.   
  
One day, he thinks, he’ll wake to find this is a bad dream.   
  
  
Teddy’s never done this before—has never had any desire to do something so _dirty_ , but he’s standing before the door, at the appointed time, and he’s come this far so he may as well go the distance.   
  
It’s hardly a knock, a nervous brush of knuckles against dry wood more like, but the sound works. The door opens and there before him is a young man—Al or James’s age—and he’s looking up at Teddy with eyes burdened by the world’s harsh truths.   
  
“What’s your name?” Teddy blurts.   
  
A sardonic smile pulls at pale chapped lips, “Does it matter?” Teddy feels foolish and bested by a man who is seven years his junior and his companion must take pity for he whispers, “Scorpius.”   
  
  
Scorpius asks him what he wants the moment the door shuts, but Teddy’s hardly heard a word of the list he’s rattling off—he’s too busy looking around the room. The walls are a peeling, yellowing white with an occasional water spot browning in warped circles. Teddy frowns and looks down at the maroon carpets—faded and dusty, it’s hardly the glamorised lifestyle Lily’s convinced whores live.   
  
“Are we going to do this?” Scorpius’s voice breaks through Teddy’s fog and he looks up from the lumpy, unmade bed and glances in the direction of the sound.   
  
“Er...yeah,” he scrubs a hand over his face and tries not to think of why the bed is unmade or why the smell of sex is so heavy on the air.   
  
“Come here then.” Scorpius slips from his tatty housecoat and Teddy blushes while glancing away, all the while feeling ridiculous as this is what he’s come for. “They’re always embarrassed the first time.”   
  
“I’m not a virgin,” Teddy snaps, irritated with his fraying nerves.   
  
He’s gifted a smile that is soft and almost kind, “You’re a virgin to the scenario—come, let me defile you.”   
  
He’s all legs, that’s the first thing Teddy notices when Scorpius languidly stretches and raises a hand to summon Teddy closer. His second observation of Scorpius is how white his skin is. And he notes the purple marks left by other men—other punters. The thought causes Teddy’s stomach to churn and Scorpius, ever observant, notices.   
  
“I could glamour myself.”   
  
“What good would that do me now?”   
  
“All you have to do is surrender to illusion.” Scorpius smiles and a surprisingly strong grip closes around Teddy’s wrist. He falls against the lumpy mattress with its scratchy musty covers, and watches wide-eyed as Scorpius’s lean form straddles his body. Deft hands with long beautiful fingers, work Teddy’s shirt over his head before they move to rid him of his trousers—he swallows nervously at the speed of the entire situation.   
  
To calm himself, he cracks a joke the moment his cock is free and freezing in Scorpius’s cold hand, “Not going to kiss me first?”   
  
“I don’t kiss—my job requires fucking or being fucked by you. Kissing is reserved for the partners you’d bring home to meet Mummy.” Teddy gasps as Scorpius’s grip becomes a bit too tight and the pull on his cock becomes too rough. “Now—you’re hard enough let me show you what they pay me for.”   
  
Teddy watches, enraptured, as Scorpius oils his fingers with a half empty vial that was resting against one of the flat pillows. He sucks in a breath as Scorpius’s arm moves behind his back—his long fingers disappearing between the crack of his arse, working at his hole for only a minute before he uses the slick hand to wet Teddy’s cock. The passage is loose and warm. Teddy can ignore the fact Scorpius has been well used when small hips begin to rock and every minute slip of his cock—in and out—sends electric sparks coursing through his body.   
  
He wants to stare down his body at the spot where he can feel Scorpius moving up and down his cock, but it’s been so long Teddy’s eyes are rolling back in his head and he’s done before he’s really got a chance to enjoy the moment.   
  
When he glances at Scorpius, intending to offer a hand, he finds that Scorpius is flaccid and it makes the short-lived magic of his orgasm lose its calming effect.   
  
  
The slap is hard and stings deep beneath the skin of Scorpius’s cheek. Wind rushes past his face and his head turns from the force—above him a lusting groan whispers down as another blow reddens his skin. Thankfully, he’s given extra for the rough play and, as such, he moans like he wants it—pretends the blow is what he craves. When in reality, his mind is far away—lost in the English countryside, remembering the summer he spent with his gran. A violent grip around his throat breaks him from the memory, and he’s sorry to see it slip away.   
  
He hasn’t eaten in two days. So he is glad Mr Violet has come to play—of course his name isn’t Mr Violet and Scorpius is certain he’s not seen his true face, but he’s not troubled. So long as he gets his money and he can eat he’ll live quietly, accepting the deception. It’s not as if Scorpius is entirely honest with his customers. He couldn’t go a day without lying, at least once, now if he tried.   
  
He lies now—begging for it harder and in response he feels another slap to the face.   
  
Enjoying the moment would make the time go faster, make it more pleasant, but Scorpius cannot bring himself to find pleasure in this humiliation.   
  
  
Three weeks seems a long eternity to Teddy. By the time he’s lifting his hand to knock against Scorpius’s battered door, he’s itching with anticipation. Why? He’s not sure—the last time he found his way to Scorpius’s door he had humiliated himself by shooting off too early, but now he’s here and he honestly cannot fathom why.   
  
The door opens after one brush of knuckles against dry wood. Scorpius is much the same as he was—sickly white with bruises and dead eyes. Something in Teddy pulls at his heart, and he’s changing his mind about trying to prove his sexual prowess. Why bother humiliating himself a second time—neither will find pleasure in that situation.   
  
“Come out with me,” he says.   
  
“There are better escorts than me, I assure you.” Teddy’s just noticed the posh way Scorpius’s words flow off his tongue.   
  
“But I want to take you.”   
  
A wry smile twitches at chapped pink lips. “Fine.”   
  
  
The coffee warms through its recycled fibre cup and seeps into the palm of Scorpius’s freezing hand. He relishes the way it feels. His magic’s been weak lately—too little rest and too much work and an endless storm of fraying nerves. Rent’s due soon and what little Scorpius has managed to save for the note has left him with little to no food in the last week. By now—three years after his first punter—he’s to the point where he doesn’t crave food, but he sure as hell misses it.   
  
Teddy buys him a cherry tart and Scorpius looks at the dark red top with cynical eyes even as the heavenly smell invades him. It’s a gift that’s what this man tells him, but he knows better—nothing in life is a gift. Or free.   
  
Even so, he thanks Teddy and savours every bite.   
  
  
They take the scenic route back to the ratty hole Scorpius calls his flat. The Thames is awash with Muggles, most on their way to work. Others—tourists—pointing and snapping photos. A horn sounds from one of the boats on the water and Teddy doesn’t miss the wistful look fleeting across Scorpius’s face. The elegant hand is icy in Teddy’s palm but the chill doesn’t bother him as he leads Scorpius home.   
  
  
He’s on his knees, Teddy’s cock in his mouth—heavy and hot on his tongue. A throaty groan reaches his ears and something in the sound causes warmth to tickle deep in Scorpius’s gut. It’s been so long since he’s had a reaction to a punter and he’s momentarily surprised when he feels his cock twitch.   
  
The falter causes Teddy to plead, “Don’t stop—fuck, don’t stop.”   
  
He doesn’t. He can’t—Teddy’s fingers twist in his hair and he hisses when Scorpius gently scrapes across the base of his cock with teeth Teddy's cock head reaches down Scorpius's throat seeking release, and he moans despite the choking feel. He wants Teddy to fill his stomach with come. Wants to feel claimed as he never has before. Looking up he pleads with his gaze—he needs it and somehow he just _knows_ Teddy can tell. Moments later come slides, thick and hot, down his welcoming throat.   
  
“Fuck,” Teddy murmurs, knees weak as he slides down the water ruined wall.   
  
Scorpius is turning away from him when Teddy’s hand on his thigh stops his movement. “Let me.” Long warm fingers wrap around his half interested cock and Scorpius feels Teddy pulling a reaction from him. Lips find his neck and leave wet kisses before teeth mark his skin with gentle bites. He’s leaking soon enough—writhing against Teddy like the whore he is, begging with half silent sobs and moans muted by Teddy’s rebellious kisses. So much for keeping the little intimacies out of his work.   
  
He calls out in Teddy’s mouth—the name swallowed by a greedy kiss and he becomes boneless in the circle of Teddy’s arms as he comes.   
  
  
“Ah. Ah. Ah.” He calls methodical and without meaning as a fat, sweating man thrusts behind him and Scorpius looks up at the cracked ceiling wondering why he wasn’t born a bird.   
  
It doesn’t take this man long, and he’s generous with his payment. Scorpius accepts it with a dismissive smile and a promise to pen him in for the following week. It was easy and the money’s good—he hasn’t got a reason to refuse. But damn he wishes he did.   
  
  
He’s surprised when Scorpius pulls him into a fierce kiss the moment the door swings open. Long, spindly legs going around Teddy’s waist as he climbs up Teddy’s slim body. “I’m ready for you,” he whispers and Teddy’s hard before he can process the words.   
  
Scorpius is loosened and dripping with lube when Teddy bends him over the moth bitten sheets. His arse spread with one of his hands for Teddy’s viewing pleasure. The dark pink rim of his arsehole twitches with anticipation and a needy whimper escapes Teddy’s lips as he hurries to give Scorpius what he wants.   
  
“Now.” The whispered demand urges Teddy forward and his eyes roll back when he presses forward, into Scorpius’s welcoming body.   
  
He can feel a sigh through the point where his body connects with Scorpius’s. His whore’s desire is Teddy’s undoing.   
  
  
He asks Teddy to stay—he’s not sure why. But Teddy accepts and buys dinner. Scorpius doesn’t charge him and he cancels the rest of his appointments—says he’s caught Wizfluenza and they gladly stay gone. There are other bodies as willing as his.  
  
Scorpius learns how to use chopsticks and Teddy laughs at his failing attempts to get food into his mouth. More often than not he’s got greasy vegetables falling against the pillow over his nude lap.   
  
Running his fingers through Teddy’s bright hair, Scorpius looks into his hazel eyes, noticing for the first time the golden flecks in the irises and finds himself feeling terribly mesmerized. He shouldn’t, he knows, but the attachment has formed and he’s damned with or without this sensation. With it, he’s as free as a caged bird can be, without he’s as lonely as he’s ever been—in this moment he wishes they could have been born different people, with different circumstances, because maybe then this—whatever it is—could flourish. As it is, he can only have what little moments these galleons of Teddy’s buy—snippets of a relationship while he actively guards his heart.   
  
The fortune is open and he shakes his head at the slip _Now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. The greatest of these is love._ His fortune’s never heard of rented love, apparently. It’s the most wretched thing of all.   
  
  
His hand hovers over Scorpius’s white skin—if he touches again Teddy knows grey eyes will flutter open and demand a charge. It is Scorpius’s right, he’s only Teddy’s by hire. But he craves the feel of cold, soft skin—his opiate. Resisting the lull of the body’s siren call, Teddy rolls over—his ignored fortune brushing his finger as he reaches for his wand. A smile twitches at his mouth as he lifts the thin strip of paper—red words flashing across the surface capture his eye _Never underestimate the power of the human touch._   
  
A glance over his shoulder reveals Scorpius’s peaceful face and Teddy turns, leaning over that constantly chilly form, pressing a kiss to parted, chapped lips. He breathes in the sigh Scorpius releases, holding it in—pretending it’s everything Scorpius hides in his heart and that it is all for Teddy alone.   
  
  
Of course, this is not their end—it is the fragile beginning of a love between an average wizard and his whore.


End file.
